A Tangled Web
by idontlikegravy
Summary: Part of the same series as Take the Peanut from my Hand posted by strangevisitor but coauthored by us both . Methos needs to put closure on the case of Daniel Clifford, but Agent Gibbs just won't let things go...
1. A Lie Well Told

**A/N:**_This fic is part of the series I'm co-authoring with StrangeVisitor, published here under her name as Take the Peanut From my Hand. This will make a lot more sense if you read that first, especially Chapter 12, because it follows directly from events that occur there._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no profit_.

**A Lie Well Told**

Methos slouched as best as he was able to in the hard metal chair, trying to project the appropriate level of sadness and distress at being called in to discuss the loss of his 'twin'. Dr. Mallard had cautioned him that Gibbs was tough to fool, but Methos had dismissed the warning. Playing the part of grieving brother didn't require much effort, and in reality, he was scrutinising the security camera and recording devices and listening intently to the conversation outside the door.

At least two agents were stood in the corridor, one who Richie had called Tony, and another who Methos suspected was the infamous Agent Gibbs

"I just don't like it, DiNozzo. Something is off kilter about this whole cock-a-mamie scenario. His twin brother?!" said the voice Methos assumed to be Gibbs.

"I know, boss. But the resemblance is uncanny. What other explanation is there? Unless the corpse just got up and walked out of autopsy," DiNozzo replied with a half-hearted chuckle. Gibbs grunted in reply and opened the door.

Methos could tell instantly that the man was former military. It was obvious from the way he walked, and the jarhead haircut could only belong to a US Marine. Inwardly Methos smiled, he knew just how to play this now. He sat up in his chair and adopted a concerned look.

Gibbs sat down opposite Methos and slapped a folder on the table in front of him. The two sat regarding each other for a moment before Gibbs spoke.

"So, Doctor Clifford…"

"Yes, Agent… Gibbs is it?"

Methos then sat quietly regarding Gibbs, who clearly wanted him to say something more, but he waited for the agent to make the next move. The silence stretched into minutes. Clearly, Gibbs was good at the waiting game, but Methos was a master. Eventually Gibbs patience wore thin.

"So, my M.E. tells me that it was your brother, Daniel, that was found this morning," Gibbs said. Methos could feel the scepticism pouring off Gibbs and looked suitably distressed, knowing that Gibbs was gauging his reaction. "Any idea how such a snafu could happen?"

"I can only assume that immigration got us muddled when we entered the country. They must have put my prints on my brother's visa. We are identical. I mean were," Doctor Clifford said with a shake of his head.

Methos smiled inwardly as he said that. It was a nice touch; he knew that referring to a loved one in the past tense too soon was considered a sign of guilt by law enforcement.

"And nobody picked up on this sooner? I'm glad this security issue has come to our attention, Doctor," Gibbs commented. Methos could hear a note of derision in his voice; clearly Gibbs didn't believe what he was being told.

"Look, I'm sorry for any confusion and any unnecessary paperwork this mistaken identity has caused you. But the sad fact of the matter is that Daniel took his own life, and it wasn't unexpected. I failed to protect my own twin, Agent Gibbs."

"You're absolutely certain of that?" Gibbs asked.

Methos hung his head and delivered his response to his shoes.

"I've never been more certain of anything," he said quietly.

"Why the hurry to remove the body from the morgue?"

Methos sighed inwardly. Gibbs was certainly persistent. Methos looked up, straight into the agent's eyes.

"There was no hurry, Agent Gibbs. Doctor Mallard said he had concluded the autopsy and was happy to release my brother's remains. If you've no more questions, I'd be grateful if you would let me go so I can finalise the necessary arrangements to have him sent home."

Gibbs glowered at Methos, but no more questions were forthcoming. Methos silently crowed in triumph as he recognized the defeated tilt to Gibbs head. He would be free momentarily. Gibbs stood, but before exiting the room he sent a final word of caution toward him.

"Just don't leave town, Doctor Clifford," he said.

The cliché amused Methos, but the threat it implied certainly did not. Gibbs was clearly unsatisfied with the story Methos had given and wanted to pursue things further. Luckily for Methos, the case was closed and so there was nothing Gibbs could do about it.

Methos had never known a mortal to be so formidable, he was impressed. After five thousand years, it took a lot to make him sweat. Still, he was mentally patting himself on the back for what he felt was an Oscar-worthy performance of the grieving brother. Not too grief stricken, but not too cavalier either. He just hoped this was going to be an end to the matter.


	2. A Tangled Web

**A Tangled Web**

Methos groaned inwardly as he saw Agent Gibbs head across the hospital lobby. He'd had a feeling Gibbs wouldn't let matters drop, but he'd hoped to be back in the UK before the NCIS agent came calling.

"Agent Gibbs, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can it, Clifford. We need to talk, in private," Gibbs replied, a determined glare on his face. Methos shrugged and ushered him into his temporary office. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Gibbs wheeled on him and pushed Methos against the wall. "There was no brother, was there? It was your body in the morgue that day."

Shocked, Methos was momentarily at a loss for words, so he pretended Gibbs' hold was choking him.

"Oh please, I know that won't kill you," Gibbs said, but he still loosened his grip a little. Having regained his composure, Methos was able to speak.

"Have you quite lost your mind, Agent Gibbs? I told you it was my brother who died. How could it possibly have been my body? That's not only preposterous, but medically impossible," Methos answered calmly and a little indignant.

This clearly wrong-footed Gibbs, who took a step back and released Methos. Methos straightened out his clothing and calmly regarded Gibbs. Gibbs seemed to recover his confidence and spoke again.

"I know everything. Ducky and Richie told me all about it. You're like Ryan, aren't you?" Gibbs said, more of a statement than a question, with emphasis on Richie's real surname.

Inwardly, Methos sighed. He didn't know why Richie had been blabbing again, but clearly half of NCIS now seemed aware of Immortals.

"What exactly did Doctor Mallard tell you?" Methos asked.

"Oh no, I'm not going to let you make me look like a fool again, Clifford. If that's your name. I checked: there were no human remains shipped from Washington to the UK since your visit to NCIS. In fact, I can find no trace of your so-called brother beyond the immigration records. And I'm going to be having serious words with Abby and Ryan about where those came from. I know that the reason the body disappeared was because you got up and walked out of autopsy. Don't try and deny it, Clifford," Gibbs was invading Methos' personal space again, jabbing at Methos' chest as he spoke in a voice that was almost a growl.

Methos was really beginning to like this mortal. Richie, on the other hand, was rapidly slipping down his list of favourite Immortals.

"Let's say, for a moment, that this insane notion of yours was correct. What exactly would you do about it?" Methos said cautiously.

"Officially? Absolutely nothing. The case was ruled a suicide, and all the documents back up the official story. Besides, who'd believe me? But I'm guessing that you didn't set fire to yourself, so there's a murderer at large. It didn't stick for you, but if he got away with it once, he's more likely to strike again. And the next victim won't be able to get up and walk away. I want to catch the bastard before that happens," Gibbs replied.

Methos sidestepped Gibbs and took his seat behind his desk. He motioned for Gibbs to take the seat opposite, but Gibbs stayed standing, arms folded. Methos silently contemplated Gibbs, weighing up his options.

He could continue to deny everything, and leave the States as soon as he was able, never coming back as Clifford and certainly not coming to DC for another generation. Alternatively he could go find Richie and practise his surgical techniques on the younger Immortal without any anaesthetic. That wouldn't resolve any of his problems, but it would make him feel better.

"Come on, Clifford. Don't you want to find out who tried to kill you? Hell, for all they know, they succeeded, they just got the wrong man. Aren't you just a little bit pissed about that?" Gibbs asked, leaning over the desk.

Cut and run was usually his favoured option, but Methos had to admit a certain amount of curiosity as to Adam Clifford's enemy, and an overwhelming urge for revenge. If he hadn't been fortunate enough to wake up in Doctor Mallard's autopsy room, he would have been forced to abandon Adam Clifford's life, and he was rather enjoying it.

He rarely trusted mortals with his Immortality; Joe was probably the only one alive who knew. But Methos was a very good judge of character, and he thought he may be able to trust Gibbs.

"Would you let me make a private phone call please? You can wait out in the lobby; I won't be able to slip out unseen. I just want to confirm some details before I say anything further," Methos said, choosing his words carefully. Gibbs regarded him for a second, then nodded and left the room. Methos picked up his cell and hit speed dial.

"_Hello?_"

"What the buggering hell have you been saying now, brat?" Methos demanded.

"_Methos?...Oh no, Gibbs is there, isn't he? Man, I never thought…I'm so sorry, I should have realised he'd figure it out. I'm such an idiot_," Richie said.

"Well I could have told you that. Is there anyone in that agency who doesn't know about us? I just want to know, so I don't accidentally let it slip to the wrong Government Agent," Methos sniped.

"_It wasn't like that. Gibbs thought I was a terrorist or something. He'd seen the video of the Paris crash, and he knew my alias was a fake. He was going to send me to Guantanamo Bay or something and Ducky and Abs would have lost their jobs, maybe ended up in Federal prison_!" Richie babbled in explanation, barely pausing for breath. "_I had no choice_."

"You could have left."

"_Did you not hear the part about Gibbs? He caught me as I was trying to leave, which of course made things a million times worse. I'm so lucky he didn't throw my ass in jail on the spot._"

"Why couldn't you just get shot and start over then?" Methos said, anger edging his voice. He was probably going to do more than shoot the young Immortal if he saw him in the near future.

"_That would have still left Abby and Ducky in trouble. I couldn't do that to them,_" Richie replied, the apologetic tone replaced by a hint of anger.

Methos silently conceded the point, and changed topic to the crux of his current dilemma.

"If I stick to the story, give him the run-around until I leave the States, would Gibbs let it rest at that?" Methos asked, voicing his earlier gut instinct.

"_I doubt it. He went after me based only on his gut and Gibbs never lets anything go_. _In fact, I'm still not certain he's done with me… Look, Gibbs is a really good guy. A little rough around the edges, but underneath he really cares about what's right. You can trust him_," Richie answered adamantly.

"Oh brilliant, another Boy Scout," Methos opined, shaking his head in exasperation. On the other end of the line, Richie chuckled.

"_Marine actually. Seriously though, Old Man, let him help you. He's the best there is at what he does. If he can't find out who tried to kill you, nobody can_."

"How did you know he'd offered to help?" Methos asked, suspicious suddenly.

"_I know Gibbs_," was Richie's reply.

Without saying goodbye, Methos hung up and considered what Richie had said. He did want to find out who exactly had tried to murder him, and he didn't have much experience as a detective. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let Gibbs know a little. Not too much, but enough that he could provide information and expertise.

Methos sighed and walked to the door of his office. He opened it and looked for Gibbs. The NCIS agent was seated opposite, but he stood when Methos opened the door.

"You'd better come in, Agent Gibbs. We've got a lot to discuss."


	3. The Plot Thickens

The two men sat regarding each other across Dr. Adam Clifford's desk. Gibbs was scowling and waiting impatiently for Methos to speak. After a moment, Methos leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Richie tells me that you know everything about us…" he said, leaving the statement hanging as a question. Richie may have revealed certain details to Gibbs, but Methos was so infuriated with Richie that he'd ended their phone conversation before he ascertained exactly how much.

"That's correct," Gibbs replied curtly, but a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The smile was mirrored by Methos.

"Well, anything he may have revealed while under duress can certainly be taken with a pinch of salt," he said.

Gibbs leaned forward in his chair and regarded Methos intently.

"You mean the whole living forever unless someone removes your head? That wasn't true? Because, if it wasn't, then I'd love an explanation as to how he isn't currently nursing a gunshot wound and why you're not currently dead. Now can the games, Clifford. Is that even your name?" Gibbs demanded.

Methos resigned himself to telling Gibbs a version of the truth, something he wasn't happy about no matter how small a part of the truth it may be. Gibbs knew too much about Immortals, but Methos was going to make damn sure he didn't know any more about his own history than was strictly necessary to find his would-be murderer.

"At the moment, yes. And as the target of this crime was clearly Doctor Adam Clifford; that is the only name you need to know. If I think anything else is relevant, I'll reveal it," Methos replied.

"I'll decide what's relevant, Doctor. If you're not going to cooperate, I'll happily bust your ass for obstructing an investigation," Gibbs retorted. Methos laughed.

"What investigation?"

"I'll think of something," Gibbs muttered. Methos held up his hand in a placatory gesture.

"Look, Agent Gibbs, if I was the intended target, then surely my assailant would have known that fire wouldn't kill me. Ergo, it's only logical to conclude that Adam Clifford was the target of a killer or killers unknown," Methos reasoned. Gibbs nodded, forced to concede the point.

"So who's got a beef against Clifford?"

*-*

Given the special nature of the investigation, Gibbs' choices for partner were limited to the few people who knew about Immortals. He didn't want to involve Abby and Ducky in the investigation beyond their fields, and he was still too pissed at Richie, so he was content to allow Clifford to help him. They separated, Gibbs going to question one of the nursing staff while Adam went to talk to one of the doctors.

The list of suspects had four names, two of whom had alibis for the time of the 'murder'. Top of Gibbs' list was a woman that Clifford had had a relationship with in the UK who was now a nurse at the hospital. Clifford had said the relationship ended badly, and that she had been avoiding him since his arrival.

_For a man who's only been here a couple of weeks, he's sure made enough enemies. But Hell hath no fury… _Gibbs thought to himself as he headed to the nurses' station.

He found Maria Thatcher at the nurses' station and took her aside to an empty staffroom. She proceeded to make them coffee, which wasn't bad for filter.

"So, how can I help you Agent Gibbs?"

"I'm investigating the murder of Daniel Clifford," he replied, watching her face for any reaction. He had to admit, he didn't see any sign of recognition.

"I don't see how I can help you. I don't know anyone by that name. Was he a patient?" she asked, and Gibbs was sure she was genuine.

"We think the intended victim was his twin brother, Doctor Adam Clifford," Gibbs explained and this time there was a definite reaction. Maria's face darkened at the mention of Clifford, and she took a long drink of coffee before answering.

"I see. I didn't know Dr. Clifford was in the DC area," she replied. There was a definite tone of anger in her voice, but she was trying to keep it in check. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her statement and pretended to check his notebook.

"According to our information, he's been working in this hospital for two weeks. He's on your floor and you haven't seen him?" Gibbs said with a note of incredulity. Maria shook her head and smiled.

"I've been on vacation, staying with folks in Florida. I just got back today."

Gibbs nodded. He'd have to check out her alibi, but it looked like he just lost his best suspect. He hoped Clifford was having better luck.

*-*

Methos entered the office of Captain Aaron Deckard, one of the staff surgeons he had noticed watching him over the last few weeks. It wasn't much to go on, but he was as good a suspect as any to begin the investigation with.

Captain Deckard was seated at his desk, but he jumped up when Methos entered.

"Doctor Clifford, this is a surprise. Something I can do for you?" he asked nervously. Methos closed the door behind him and walked over to Deckard's desk.

"I was just wondering why you dislike me, Captain," he replied.

"Dislike?" Deckard made his way around the desk.

Methos readied himself for a confrontation, but Deckard stopped a few steps away from him. The man seemed even more nervous than when Methos had entered the room. He was fidgeting and shifting his weight as he stood there. Methos felt sure that he wanted to tell him something and excited that he might already have a lead he pressed the matter further.

"You've hardly said two words to me since I arrived, and yet you seem to be everywhere I go," he said. Deckard didn't respond; he just stood there, staring at Methos.

"I know you watch me," Methos said, leaning closer to intimidate him, his voice barely a whisper.

"How could I not? That grace and intelligence, you're a hard man to ignore," Deckard replied, then suddenly grabbed Methos and pulled him in for a kiss.

*-*

"Well?" asked Gibbs as Methos hurried out of the office toward him.

"It isn't him," Methos replied, flushing a little. Gibbs fell into step with him and the two headed back toward Methos' office.

As they reached the door, Gibbs' cell began to ring. He stopped to answer it, indicating that Clifford should continue inside. He spoke briefly to Tony, who told him they had another body to investigate. A man approached while Gibbs was talking and waited patiently for the phone call to finish.

"Are you Agent Gibbs?" the man asked when he'd closed his cell. Gibbs nodded. "I'm Lieutenant Marks, sir. I heard you were investigating the death of Dr. Clifford's brother? I think I have some relevant information."

"What is it Lieutenant?"

"That man's name isn't Adam Clifford. I met him about ten years ago when he was using the name Adam Pierson. I don't know if that's his real name either," Marks said, all the while keeping an eye on the door to Dr. Clifford's office.

"Not illegal to change your name," Gibbs replied, although internally he sighed. He'd only known about Immortals for a few days and already he was covering for one. The Lieutenant seemed to accept this though, and he left. Gibbs wasn't sure whether to tell Clifford or not, but he could decide that later. He walked into Clifford's office. "Got another body, similar MO," he said curtly before walking back out again.

He knew he'd been rude, and maybe a little unfair, but he wasn't comfortable with any of this situation. He didn't owe Clifford anything, least of all access to any official investigation.

*-*

Several hours later, Methos was walking out to his rental when Gibbs pulled up at the kerb. Methos halted and waited for the agent to get out of the vehicle.

"I'm assuming there's been a development," Methos replied, slight amusement colouring his tone.

"Could say that," Gibbs replied and the look on his face sobered Methos immediately. Gibbs handed him a photograph of a man in naval uniform. A man who bore a striking resemblance to Methos.

"If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd say we were related. Who is he?"

"The latest victim. Burned the same way you were. Except this one isn't getting up and nor are the two killed before you. Local LEO's just decided to inform me there were two civilians killed with the same MO in the last year," Gibbs replied.

"A serial killer? Ye gods and little fishes. There never was a motive, I just fit his 'type'," Methos said with a shiver. "Now how do we find him?"

"Now?" Gibbs said, striding back to the car. "Now we let Abs do her thing."


	4. Manhunter

**A/N:**_Sorry folks, I know it's been a while, but we're back in business!_

**Manhunter**

Gibbs strode into the bullpen to find his team huddled together around Tony's desk. Not an unusual occurrence, but something in their postures told Gibbs that something was up.

"DiNozzo!" he barked, causing the three agents to jump, and Gibbs allowed himself a small inward smile that even Ziva hadn't noticed his approach.

"Yeahboss?" Tony replied cautiously.

"Have you caught our guy? Because I can't think of another reason why you'd all be standing around doing nothing while there's a serial killer out there."

"That would be my fault," said a familiar voice, and Gibbs looked up to see Fornell coming down the stairs with another agent that Gibbs didn't recognise. "This case is ours, Jethro."

"Two of the victims are connected to the Navy. That makes this our case, Tobias," Gibbs said coolly. Fornell smiled.

"Which is why I've decided to let you work with us on this," he replied. "Agent Truman here will be liaising with your team."

Gibbs grunted a greeting at the agent, but Truman seemed distracted by something. Ignoring the man, Gibbs turned his glare on Fornell and then nodded in the direction of the elevator. Without waiting for Tobias to respond, he strode towards his 'office' assuming the FBI agent would follow. The case was complicated enough without entering into a pissing contest with the FBI and Gibbs was fine with joint jurisdiction, but he never liked to acquiesce to Tobias without at least appearing to hate the idea of sharing.

*-*

As he climbed the stairs, Richie nearly dropped the hard drive he was carrying when he felt the presence of another Immortal in the NCIS building. He rounded the corner and continued out onto the floor and smiled in relief when he spotted Mathew McCormick. Mathew smiled back and approached Richie, who placed the computer on the nearest desk and waited.

"Mathew," he greeted, a little uncertainty in his voice. Mathew nodded confirmation.

"That's right, Mathew Truman, FBI. It's Richie, right? Richie…?" he replied, holding out a hand. Richie noted that Mathew had lost his Southern drawl for this alias; his accent was more Eastern Seaboard. It was a good trick, and one Richie hoped he could learn one day.

"Richie Blaine," he answered as he took the proffered hand. "It's good to see you again."

"Yes. We'll have to catch up later."

"Definitely."

*-*

A few hours later, Richie was sitting in a booth at his favourite bar near NCIS when Mathew slipped into the seat opposite and nodded his thanks for the beer that was waiting for him.

"So, NCIS?" he said without preamble. Richie chuckled.

"Not the first place I'd think of looking for me," he agreed. "But amazingly it seems to suit me. I think I might stick around; made some good friends here," Richie left the implied question in his tone and Mathew picked up on it.

"No objections here. I'd be a hypocrite if I did. Besides, a few misdemeanours as a kid don't say anything about character now. From what MacLeod's said about you, I think you've the makings of a good agent," he replied before taking a drink of the beer.

Richie drank some of his own, a little lost for words at the statement.

"What do you know about the case I'm on?" Mathew continued.

"A little, water cooler gossip mostly. Although I do know something that isn't in the files," Richie answered. Mathew raised an eyebrow in question. "The third victim, it was Dr. Clifford, not his twin. He's one of us."

"And Gibbs didn't question that? From what Fornell has told me Gibbs doesn't seem like a man easily …oh, he knows, doesn't he?" Mathew asked. There was no accusation in his tone, but Richie felt a little guilty nonetheless.

"It's complicated, but I had no other option. There are two others at NCIS who know, but they aren't agents."

"Watchers?" Mathew asked, making Richie start. He hadn't realised Mathew knew of the Watchers. He nodded. "That might be useful. Thanks for the info. Is this Dr. Clifford still in town? And more importantly, is he friendly?"

"He's still here for now; Gibbs insisted he be available through the investigation. He's… well he's not the kind to fight first, let's put it that way. I know him as Adam Pierson, but he's had plenty of aliases, so I don't know if you've got a beef with him. Tall, thin, loves his beer," Richie explained.

"Slouches in a way that no human should be able?" Mathew asked. Richie laughed and nodded. "Oh, we go way back, and I don't want his head."

*-*

Methos sighed as he felt the presence of another Immortal. He'd had enough of Richie and his guilt for several lifetimes. It had been fun at first to torture him, but the young Immortal was so sincere in his contrition that it was now feeling a little like kicking a puppy. So, he was relieved and a little surprised as he turned a corner to discover Mathew McCormick waiting for him outside his office.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," Methos said as he opened the door to his office and ushered Mathew inside.

"Official business, Dr. Clifford," Mathew replied as they walked in and Methos closed the door behind them. He indicated for Mathew to take a seat on a couch in the corner and then did the same on a nearby armchair.

"Has the FBI taken over the serial killer case?" Methos asked and Mathew nodded his confirmation.

"We're sharing with NCIS, anyway. Jurisdiction is a little fuzzy and Fornell and Gibbs have a history," he explained.

Methos smiled, it looked like Agent Gibbs was going to leave him alone now and he could get on with Adam Clifford's life. It was all someone else's problem now.

"So, what can I do to help the FBI?"

*-*

"Agent Gibbs, could I have a word with you?" Mathew asked as he walked towards Gibbs' desk. "In private?"

Gibbs gave him an assessing look before standing and heading to the elevator. Mutely, Mathew followed. Once they were inside, Gibbs pressed the button for the first floor, then once the elevator began moving he abruptly flicked the stop switch.

"Talk," Gibbs said finally. Mathew briefly weighed up his options and decided on the direct approach.

"You can be completely honest with me on this case, Agent Gibbs. I'm Immortal," he said. Gibbs' expression was inscrutable, even to someone with as much practise at reading people as Mathew. "I want you to know, I don't make a habit of revealing my status to mortals, but I think this investigation will run a lot smoother if we're both on the same page."

Gibbs nodded and looked thoughtful for a few moments.

"You've spoken to Clifford?"

"Yes. And to Richie. That's why I made the decision to share what I am. I don't want to exclude your team from this investigation, but obviously I want to limit the number of people who know about Immortals, and especially me," Mathew said.

"My team can work on a need to know basis. But believe me, if I think they need to know then I will tell them, Agent Truman. I'm not a Watcher, I swore no oath," Gibbs replied.

It was Mathew's turn to nod in agreement. Gibbs started up the elevator again and jabbed the button to take them back up to the bullpen.

*-*

Richie stood in front of Ziva's desk, watching as Mathew and the team all caught up on the details of the case. To Richie's great surprise and that of the rest of the team, Gibbs had instructed him to be a part of the briefing too, but he was unsure of his place so he kept a little distance.

"The first victim, Eric Castle, a 28 year old insurance broker from DC, was found on Dec 17th, his badly charred remains discovered by a neighbour when she was putting out her trash after the holidays," DiNozzo said and gave a shudder before pressing a button on his beloved remote and bringing up a picture of the next victim beside that of the first.

The similarities between the two men were striking, they could have been related. McGee picked up a folder from his desk and took up the thread of the narrative.

"Second victim was Carl LeStrade, 35, a dentist in Baltimore. Divorced, no kids, he was found on Dec 5th sitting on a park bench. Again, his body was badly burned…" he said. Ziva held up a hand to interrupt.

"If he was found first, why is he the second victim?" she asked.

Mathew decided to step in at this point and explain.

"It's not uncommon for a serial killer's first victim to be someone they're familiar with. Because of that, they take more care in disposing of or hiding the remains in order to prevent us connecting them to the victims. But the coroners report indicates from the decomposition that Castle died at least three weeks before LeStrade," he said and then nodded to DiNozzo to continue.

Tony brought up a picture of Methos and Richie squirmed a little. He still felt so bad about everything that had happened, about the mess he'd created for Methos, Ducky and Abs, even if it was all over with for now.

"Daniel Clifford," Tony said. It sounded to Richie like there was an awful lot put into those two words, but it may have only been his own guilt. Even so, the tension in the group definitely rose. Everyone present had been affected by the aftermath of that particular case, even if Gibb's team didn't have all the facts yet. "The body was found at the Navy Yard one week ago. We chalked this one up to a suicide at first, but evidence now confirms that he was the third victim."

"Doctor Adam Clifford, the deceased's brother, has been very co-operative with the investigation, but he's got nothing useful," Gibbs said.

The statement startled Tony, Tim and Ziva and made Richie's guts squirm again as he realised Gibbs was putting a firm stop on the investigation into Adam Clifford as a suspect. He felt awful about putting the senior agent in this position and focussed his attention back on the screen before he betrayed his emotions.

It was obvious from the photographs that Methos had indeed been killed by the same guy. Whoever this sicko was, he was obviously going after men who looked like Eric Castle. Tony visibly shook himself before returning to his topic and pressing the button to bring up the picture of a young naval officer.

"And the most recent victim, Gunnery Sergeant Paul Winchester, 22. Just got back from a tour in Iraq two days ago, his body turned up yesterday, very near to where Clifford's body was discovered. Apart from the physical similarities, and being in the DC area, there is nothing obvious to connect these men together," Tony finished.

They all continued to look at the screen for a moment and then broke for their individual desks in a well-practised routine that left Richie and Mathew looking on in mild bewilderment.

"Tony, you and Ziva head down to the naval dockyards, find out everything you can about Gunnery Sergeant Winchester," Gibbs instructed as he moved. Tony and Ziva both grabbed their guns and packs and headed for the elevator. "McGee!"

"Check out the bank statements, phone records and LeStrade's patient files. On it boss!" McGee replied and was already at his computer, typing furiously.

"Blaine, help McGee," Gibbs commanded, making Richie start.

"Er… yes, boss," Richie replied and scuttled toward McGee's desk. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Gibbs smile as he went past.

"Agent Truman, you and I will go question Eric Castle's spouse. Let's see exactly why this guy is so obsessed with him," Gibbs said. Richie didn't see or hear a reply, but when he turned around, Gibbs and Mathew were heading to the elevator.

Richie turned back to Tim and let out a breath.

"Is Gibbs always like that?" he asked. Tim looked up at him and Richie was shocked to realise that he was looking at him with suspicion. It looked like he was going to have to be honest with everyone if they were ever going to trust him. But right now they had more pressing matters. "So, what do you want me to do?"


	5. The Hunt is On

As the dark sedan tore through traffic, Mathew was forced to remind himself that he wouldn't die if they crashed. Gibbs' method of driving was aggressive, to say the least, and Mathew wasn't a very good passenger at the best of times. In an attempt to distract himself from his somewhat irrational fear, Mathew tried to strike up a conversation.

"What makes you think that Castle's wife will know anything?" When Gibbs didn't answer Mathew answered the question himself. "She's already been interviewed by us and the locals. It's unlikely she'll have anything new to say."

Gibbs downshifted and turned the car right, forcing Mathew to grab the dashboard to stop himself from being thrown into Gibbs' lap.

"Agent Truman, this killer is not just killing people who look like Eric Castle, he is destroying their bodies. That much hate against someone is personal. She knows something," Gibbs replied and pulled the car to a stop beside the kerb. He placed his hand on the back of the passenger seat and turned to face Mathew. "Are you gonna let me take the lead on this?"

"I've already questioned Mrs. Castle, she's all yours."

Gibbs stared directly into Mathew's eyes for a moment, and Mathew stared right back, wondering what Gibbs was thinking. The NCIS agent seemed to come to a decision and nodded before abruptly exiting the car. Mathew did likewise and walked quickly to catch up with Gibbs as they crossed the street to the Castle residence.

Tony and Ziva were heading back to their car when Tony stopped to look around. When Ziva realised he was no longer following her she too stopped.

"Tony, what is it?"

"Has anyone spoken to the dockworkers?" he asked. Ziva followed his line of sight and nodded in comprehension.

"I do not believe so. No one has come forward as a witness," she replied.

"But none would voluntarily. Two murders and they don't see anything? Come on," Tony said and began walking toward a group of workers on the far side of the compound. They walked in silence for a few moments, unusual for Tony, so Ziva took the opportunity to talk to him about something that was bothering her.

"It is strange that Gibbs has asked Blaine to join this investigation, is it not?" Ziva commented. She knew it was, she just wondered what Tony thought of the situation.

"I'm sure Gibbs has his reasons."

"Yes, but was it not just a week ago that he suspected Richie to be not who he says he is? There is no denying that he bears a remarkable resemblance to Richie Ryan." Tony stopped and laughed.

"That's just a freaky coincidence. He can't possibly be Ryan, he's too young. Or is it common for people in Israel to come back from the dead and not get any older?" he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Ziva just smiled enigmatically and walked on.

Gibbs took the cup of coffee and sipped it, appreciating the way Rebecca Castle made it – good and strong. He waited for her to pass another to Agent Truman and then settle herself on the chair opposite.

"I'm not sure what I can tell you that I haven't already said, Agent Gibbs," she said. Gibbs smiled and took another drink before putting the cup down on the table in front of him and leaning forward conspiratorially.

"Mrs Castle, your husband was killed by someone who hated him enough to torch his body and then do the same thing to three other men. And you're telling me you've no idea why?" he said.

It was perhaps a little harsher than he'd intended, but it was clear to him that the woman was concealing something and the soft approach obviously hadn't worked. Mrs Castle glared at him but she didn't reply, confirming Gibbs' suspicions. He waited, staring at her until she finally relented.

"Don't ask, don't tell. That's what you say in the military, isn't it?".

"Your husband was gay, and you knew?" Truman blurted out, surprised.

"I know how this must look, Agent Gibbs; but my husband and I loved each other very much. He just sometimes needed the company of men. As long as he came home to me each night I didn't care," she explained, her eyes defiant, daring Gibbs to challenge her. Gibbs nodded.

It didn't rule out Rebecca Castle as a suspect, but she seemed sincere enough and Gibbs' gut was telling him they were looking for a man.

"Thank you for your time and the coffee, ma'am," Gibbs said as he got to his feet.

Richie strode into Abby's lab to find the forensic scientist engrossed in something on her computer.

"Major Mass Spec has compared the traces of accelerant used in all four murders, Gibbs," she said without turning around. "It's a match in each case," she continued and then turned. "Oh."

"Sorry to disappoint, Abs," Richie said with a grin.

"I'm not disappointed, how could I be? I love getting visits from my favourite Immortal. It's just I have news and Gibbs is always here when I have news," Abby explained.

"Well, you could tell me. I'm working the case too."

"Really? Oh that's fantastic Richie! I knew Gibbs would love you as much as I do," Abby said and then flushed as she realised what she'd admitted. She turned quickly back to her monitor. "As I was saying…"

"What you got, Abs?" Gibbs said as he strode through the door, _Caf-Pow!_ in one hand.

"See? He knows. It's his superpower," Abby said in a half-whisper as she punched Richie playfully on the arm.

Smiling at Gibbs, Abby repeated her findings for the boss. "The accelerant used in all the murders was the same, Gibbs. Not just the same type of fuel, but the same brand. Unfortunately it's a really common brand of gas used for lawnmowers mostly."

"I thought you had something?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow and withdrew the _Caf-Pow!_ Abby pouted.

"I wasn't finished yet. The killer left a gas can at one of the scenes, and I managed to lift a partial print and some DNA from it. I'm running them now, I'll get a result soon, but I can tell you with certainty that it's definitely male," Abby answered. Gibbs pulled the drink even further from Abby's grasp and stared at her expectantly. "I'm still waiting for physical evidence from the first two victims, but I did find some fibres on the clothes Dr. Clifford was wearing… um, I mean his brother was wearing…"

"It's okay, Abs. Just make sure you don't say the wrong thing around the others," Richie reassured her. Gibbs glowered at him, but said nothing.

"Anyway, it's an interesting fibre, has some unusual chemicals on it. The boys will tell me more, but given the luminosity I'd say it's from a high-vis jacket," Abby finished with a small pleading look at the _Caf-Pow!_. Gibbs smiled before finally handing over the drink.

"That's good work, Abs," he said and gave her a peck on the cheek. Richie smiled at the show of affection, now he could see why Abby had a different view of Gibbs than everyone else. "What have you found, Blaine?" Gibbs added and turned his attention to Richie.

"We pulled all the phone and credit records of the victims, found no commonalities. McGee was just getting access to LeStrade's patient files when I came down to see if I could help Abby… Boss," Richie added belatedly. Gibbs nodded.

"Get back upstairs and help McGee background check the patients."

"Yes, Boss."

Richie stared blankly at the large screen in front of him, not really sure what he was looking for in the information.

"Which ones am I supposed to flag, Tim?" he asked the agent who was seated at his desk.

"Gibbs wants us to find any patients with criminal records and especially any connection to the other victims," McGee explained looking slightly smug at Richie's confusion.

"Look, about earlier; I meant nothing by it, I'm just not used to Gibbs," Richie said. Tim nodded, still focussed on his task; but then he paused and looked over to where Richie was standing.

"I have to ask, Richie. Why are you working on this case? You're not an agent. Heck, you haven't even finished college yet."

"And not one week ago Gibbs suspected me of being a terrorist?" Richie added. Tim squirmed a little and Richie felt instantly guilty for being unfair. He smiled reassuringly. "Gibbs is satisfied I'm who I say I am. As to why he wants me on this case, your guess is as good as mine."

"Well how about you stop guessing and start looking through those files?" Gibbs said as he strode into view.

"On it, Boss," McGee replied and buried his nose back in his screen. "So far I've got two possible links; I'm running them down now."

"Blaine?"

Richie gulped in panic, but then he spotted that the man whose file he was looking at belonged to a dockworker.

"Here's something, this patient of LeStrade's," Richie said and pointed to the screen. Gibbs moved in for a closer look. "John Packer, he's a dockworker."

"Yeah? So?"

"Well, he works at the same dock where two of the victims were found. And I'd have thought a dentist that charges the prices LeStrade did would be too snooty for a docker, Boss. Besides, his offices are unusually far from both where Packer works and where he lives," Richie continued quickly.

Gibbs looked at the file again and then seemed to scrutinise Richie for a moment before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Not bad, Blaine. Now find me a link to Castle," he said and then walked away. Richie beamed at the praise; faint as it was. Richie got the impression that Gibbs meant far more than he'd said.

"Wow Richie," McGee said. Richie turned back to him and saw he was smirking. "That was impressive. I mean, I only thought Tony had that kind of luck."

Richie chuckled.

"Beginners luck, Tim. I have no idea how to try and find a connection to Castle. Where do I start? Credit records? Phone bill?" Richie asked. McGee smiled.

"Phone records would be a good start. _We _can start there," he answered. Richie returned the smile. He was grateful not only for Tim's help, but that he seemed to have regained some of McGee's trust and respect. He suspected he had Gibbs to thank for that. He still had a long way to go with all the team, but Richie knew that they followed Gibbs' lead. As long as Gibbs trusted him, they would give him a chance and that was all he needed.


	6. Final Strands

Ducky was returning to the office after lunch; as he got out of his Morgan and crossed the lot he spotted Gibbs at the front door and wondered who he was waiting for.

"Hello, Jethro," he greeted once he was in earshot. Gibbs gave a non-committed grunt in return and fell in step beside Ducky, answering Ducky's first question and leaving him with another: what did Gibbs want?

They walked through lobby security and into the elevator in relative silence, broken only by Ducky greeting the guard on duty as they signed in. Once in the elevator and heading down toward autopsy, Gibbs flicked the switch to stop the car and turned to Ducky.

"Six months ago I'd never even heard of an Immortal. Now I've got three in my life. Is there anything else I need to know?" he declared. Ducky started to smile but stifled it at Gibbs' glare.

"Not that I know of, Jethro," he answered. Gibbs continued to glare at him for a moment and then, seemingly satisfied, he started the elevator again.

"Just do me a favour, Duck. Next time one of your stiffs walks out of autopsy; keep me out of it."

"Oh I tried this time, Jethro," he said with a chuckle. "By the way, I've got my findings ready for you, if you'd care to join me downstairs."

Gibbs nodded and they both continued down to autopsy.

"Thank you for giving Richard a chance to prove himself," Ducky said as he hung his coat on the stand. Gibbs' response was to raise one querying eyebrow so Ducky clarified, "By letting him work this case."

"Just so I can keep a closer eye on him," he replied. Ducky smiled; he knew Gibbs was already starting to warm to Richie and he was sure he'd eventually grow to like him as much as he did.

"You know, you're very lucky to have Mathew on this case," Ducky said, changing the topic. "He's been a law enforcement officer almost his entire life; that's a lot of experience."

"Let me guess, he was a sheriff in the Old West," Gibbs said with barely contained sarcasm.

"No, I think he was in Germany at that time. But he was a sheriff in Medieval England. And in his mortal life he was a knight. You two probably share a similar code of ethics. I wouldn't be surprised if he has his own 'rules' too," Ducky explained with a grin.

He let Gibbs digest that information as he collected the files he needed from his desk. At the sight of them, Gibbs' mind was back on the case immediately.

"What have you got?"

"I've gone over the original ME reports and while I've nothing new to add, I can confirm they were definitely all killed by the same person," Ducky answered. "Your killer is male, and he is consumed by rage. He feels compelled to completely destroy these men in every way."

"Tell me something I didn't know, Doctor."

"Oh. Well, yes. My psychological profile obviously contains a degree of conjecture, Jethro…"

"Out with it, Ducky."

"The man you're looking for is more than likely homosexual, but almost certainly in denial. I would think that he is in a state of self loathing, and that in the destruction of these men he is symbolically destroying himself. My guess is he's either in the military or an extremely male-dominated profession such as a builder," he continued.

"Or a dockworker," Gibbs suggested. Ducky nodded.

"Could be. Our killer has fixated on Eric Castle and men who look like him. It's only a theory, but I think our killer took a huge risk and entered a relationship with Mr. Castle. I think it's fair to assume that Castle ended the relationship, breaking our man's heart and his slender grip on sanity," Ducky finished.

"So, he's completely whacko? That's your professional opinion?" Gibbs said with a wry smile and headed toward the door.

"Well, it's not quite that simple, but essentially, yes."

"Thanks, Duck."

Gibbs mulled over what Ducky had said about Mathew as he made his way back up to the squad room. There was no denying that a thousand years in law enforcement was impressive, though it didn't necessarily follow that Truman was any good at it, just that he didn't know anything else. On the other hand, Gibbs was beginning to appreciate the kind of contribution an Immortal could make to NCIS. Richie was fitting in well with the team and Gibbs was forced to admit that he already had good instincts and showed the potential to be a good agent, if he chose to be.

He exited the elevator and made his way round to the bullpen where he saw Blaine and McGee huddled around McGee's computer. They looked up at his approach and Gibbs could tell from their faces that they'd found a connection between Packer and Castle.

"Looks like Richie was on to something, Boss" McGee said and then nodded to Richie to explain.

Blaine looked like a kid at Christmas and Gibbs was secretly pleased that Tim was being mature enough to let him have this moment of triumph. He made a mental note to do something nice for McGee later, maybe let him take point when they brought in Packer.

"Beginning about a year ago, there are several phone calls back and forth between Packer and a cell phone registered to Eric Castle. It was a secondary account, which is why it didn't show up on our first search," Richie explained as Tim brought up the phone records on the big screen. "Then, about two months before Castle's death, he stops calling. Packer tries to call him a few times and then all communication between the two stops completely."

"We've also got Packer using his credit card at a gay bar, and using ATMs near a couple more," McGee continued. "Looks like Castle and Packer might have been lovers, Boss."

"That's good work, you two. Let's bring him in for questioning. McGee…"

"Get a warrant to search his home; on it, Boss."

"Blaine, I want you to continue this research. There has to be a connection between Packer and the other victims. If he is our killer, I don't want this scumbag to walk," Gibbs instructed.

Richie was already headed to the desk he'd been using and Gibbs smiled. The kid learned quick.

_Not a kid_, Gibbs had to remind himself as he headed for the elevator with McGee. But he had such a boyish enthusiasm, sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn't the teenager he pretended to be. The thought reminded him that there was another Immortal involved with this case that needed to be kept in the loop. Yanking his cell phone from his belt, Gibbs dialled the number for Agent Truman.

Tony hit the speed dial on his phone as he and Ziva made their way back to the car and Gibbs answered almost immediately.

"Boss, we've got a lead," he said without preamble. "The dockworkers are pointing the finger at one of their own, apparently he's a regular Anthony Perkins in Psycho, freaks everyone out. Guy's name is…. Packer, yeah…uh, okay Boss."

He flipped shut his cell after Gibbs hung up on him and stared mutely at the phone for a moment before dropping it in his pocket.

"Let me guess, he already knew all about Packer," Ziva said with a smirk. They reached the car and Tony fished the keys out to unlock it.

"He and McProbie are already on their way to his place with a warrant, he wants us to meet them there," Tony confirmed as he dropped into the driver's seat. "I hate it when he does that."

McGee sat in the passenger seat of Gibbs' car and the senior agent was next to him as they watched Packer's house. They'd arrived a little while ago and parked on the opposite side of the street, a couple of houses away. Packer was definitely at home, they'd watched him take out his trash a few minutes earlier.

Agent Truman had joined them and was now sitting on the back seat as they waited for Tony and Ziva.

Tim felt Gibbs shift beside him so he switched his focus to the street and spotted Tony and Ziva pulling up.

They all got out of the cars and approached Packer's house, guns drawn and bent low to avoid detection. At Gibbs' signal, Tony and Ziva went either side of the house to cover any other exits and the other three continued up to the front door.

In an unusual act, Gibbs let Truman take the lead. Then, equally curiously, but to McGee's delight, Gibbs brought up the rear, letting Tim take point for the NCIS team. When they were all in position, Tim gave the nod to Truman, who banged on the door.

"Federal Agents, Mr. Packer. We'd like a word!"

There was no answer, so Truman banged and called out again. After waiting a suitable time, Truman gave the nod to McGee, who then broke in the door.

They entered the house and searched, each taking a different route, McGee passed through the living room and into the kitchen where he met Tony entering through the back door.

"Clear," Tim called out. Seconds later, Gibbs and Truman called out the same.

They congregated in the living room, where Ziva joined them.

"He has not left the house from the front or side," she said.

"He didn't pass me either," Tony chipped in.

"Then where the hell is he? This house only has one floor," Gibbs practically growled.

"This place was built in the fifties, right?" Truman asked, but he was already heading to the kitchen without waiting for an answer. "It's quite common for houses built then…" he stopped and indicated a patch of linoleum that was curled up. Nodding, Gibbs pointed his gun at the patch as Truman pulled it up to reveal a hatch. "…to have a basement bomb shelter," he finished in a near whisper.

"On three," Gibbs said. Truman nodded and grasped the latch as the others all aimed their weapons. Truman raised three fingers of the hand on the latch and silently counted down by lowering them one at a time. At zero he flung open the hatch and all five agents pointed their guns into the hole.

"Federal agents, drop your weapon and put your hands on your head," Truman commanded.

He was answered by gunfire from the hole that sent everyone diving for cover.

Once safe, McGee turned and returned fire down the hatch.

There was more fire from the person in the basement, presumably Packer. Tony and Ziva didn't have a clear line of sight from their spot; Agent Truman was blocking it. He was standing right behind the hatch.

_Stupid_, thought McGee, _that won't offer much protection_.

But it did give Truman a perfect line of fire and his next shot must have hit Packer. There was a sound of smashing glass from the basement and then silence as the shots ceased. Cautiously, Truman and Gibbs edged forward and peered into the basement. When they lowered their weapons, McGee came forward, as did Tony and Ziva. Packer was lying at the bottom of a staircase with a single gunshot wound to the head, surrounded by bottles and jars he must have broken in his fall.

Truman pulled a face.

"Damn, now we can't question him," he muttered.

"Less paperwork though," Tony quipped.

"But how do we know for certain he's our guy?" McGee asked.

"He fired first. Good enough for me," Gibbs replied and began walking away.

"I shall call Ducky," Ziva said as she pulled out her cell phone.

"I'm sure forensics will find some evidence," Truman assured McGee. Tim nodded but he still wasn't satisfied.

"It would just be good to know why," he said. Tony clapped him on the back.

"Probie, sometimes people are just stone-cold crazy, there is no why."

A search of the house produced pictures of Castle and the other victims, along with personal items and rope and gasoline that Abby matched to the type used in the killings. Also, Richie had found time cards that showed Packer was working at the docks when Winchester had come ashore and on the night Methos had been killed. It wasn't conclusive, but with Packer dead and the killings over, it seemed they had enough evidence to close the case.

"So that's it? Investigation over?" Richie asked Mathew. He looked around the cubicle that had been his temporary desk for the duration of the case and had to admit he was disappointed that his time on Gibbs' team seemed to be ending already.

"There are reports to file, but pretty much," Mathew agreed and then he held out his hand. "Good luck, Richie."

Richie took the hand and shook it.

"I don't know what you said to Gibbs to make him change his mind about me, but thank you."

"I haven't said anything," Mathew replied, faintly surprised. "Perhaps Gibbs just sees what a fine agent you could be."

Richie was about to retort when the agent in question appeared. Gibbs and Mathew made their goodbyes, which were brief, but Richie thought he detected a note of respect between the two. Once Mathew had left, Gibbs turned to glare at Richie.

"I want to make something very clear to you, Ryan," he began, putting emphasis on Richie's real name. "I'm gonna be watching you and if any of my team is put in danger because of you or your Game, I will be after your head."

Richie knew that Gibbs meant that literally and he nodded his understanding.

"Got it, Boss."

Gibbs regarded him for a moment, nodded and then handed Richie an envelope. Richie opened it and broke into a big goofy smile as he read the letter inside.

"This way you're right under my nose," Gibbs said in a threatening tone.

Richie wasn't entirely certain, but he thought he was starting to get a read on Gibbs and that this was a gesture of trust and friendship from the older man, despite the threat it was couched in.

"Yes, Boss," he answered. Gibbs started to walk away, so Richie called after him. "Thank you, Gibbs."

"Just don't let me down, Blaine."

Richie looked down at the piece of paper again in wonder. With immediate effect, he was being transferred to act as Abby's new lab assistant.


End file.
